Noreen Mughees

To me, spending your life with someone and having a family is more than that. I want my kids to grow up surrounded by love,

And you’re the one who says Allah plans destinies. If it’s in my qismet, I will get married. If not, I’m happy being with you and Zia.”

I missed my birth mother sometimes too, but forgiveness is hard.

Every place I’ve lived has a part of me, every house a piece. That’s a lot of missing pieces if you’ve been uprooted and replanted several times. I’ve changed homes, countries, names. The ache and the sense of loss are part of my DNA.

In my view, closure is a double-edged sword: digging into wounds that haven’t healed only makes them bleed more. But when you love someone, all you want is for them to happy, even when it’s not the easiest thing to do, nor the most rational.

I’ve never been a very religious man. I used to think destiny is what you make of it. The allure of qismet as a mystical concept was the kind of new-age bullshit that didn’t exist for me. Leaving things to chance is akin to leaving a boat untethered in a storm, hoping and praying no harm comes to it.

It’s not that I don’t crave someone in my life. Or that I’m unaccustomed to attention. It’s more that I miss having a loving touch in
my life—not a random stranger but someone familiar. But every time I try, it’s too hard. The wall I’ve built to protect my heart remains impenetrable.

I’ve never had a serious relationship.

But Soofia hates as she loves, with all that she is …”

But maybe this is what years of festering grudges does: it changes us into bitter versions of ourselves.